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This film is a movie. It will be shown mostly by projecting it onto a screen, and much of it will be images made of light. Many of the people in the audience will be watching it with their eyes, and listening with their ears.
Some will not. Arthur P. Freedworth, of Upper Pennsylvania, is planning to attend Thursday, with socks sewn to his hands. He will ride a mule for seven afternoons, and never the twain shall meet.
Horrible X. Cleveland of Dungworth Idaho is not going to see the film at all. He has an unnatural fear that film causes lively coyotes and fungus. Horrible is an excellent dancer, and can play tennis with a fig. No one has ever beaten him.
Meanwhile, Dotty is selecting branches to send to the Marines in Albequerque, along with several of the hymns that rhyme with Gherkin. She will be sailing muskrats out of Channel Seven, and pouring gasoline on anything that sounds like "Chuck."
I think you can say that I have written a more original review of this film than anyone else, but it will cost you. I have copyrighted the use of "original" and "review" within five yards of a grassy outhouse, or sailors who acquire energy from reading Kipling in the bathtub, which is where it was meant to be read.
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